


i need a hero (to lift away)

by Nearly



Series: hurt/comfort bingo [4]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hurt/Comfort, Stabbing, fluff at the end, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26671300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nearly/pseuds/Nearly
Summary: “Nice night for a walk,” the man says, hands in his pockets. His voice is friendly, but there’s an edge to it that’s making Buck nervous, and he’s blocking their way forward.“For sure,” Buck says, politely. “Sorry man, we’re just trying to get through to our car, but you have a good night, yeah?”He flashes a smile and reaches behind to put his hand protectively on Christopher’s shoulder, before moving to try and step past the man in front of him. The man steps back with him, staying in his way."Nah," he says, "I don't think we're done here."aka Buck tries to take a shortcut, and things go sideways.
Relationships: Evan “Buck” Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: hurt/comfort bingo [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817455
Comments: 24
Kudos: 243





	i need a hero (to lift away)

**Author's Note:**

> bingo fic for guamgirl10150 on tumblr!! 
> 
> title from superman by american authors, because i think i'm hilarious

“I wanna be superman for halloween this year, dad,” Chris announces as they’re leaving the theater. Buck had found a showing of a few of the older Superman movies, and suggested to Eddie that Christopher might like them, since he liked the newer ones so much. Eddie agreed, so Buck bought three tickets to an evening screening of the 1978 Superman and insisted they make a day of it—lunch, some time at the arcade in the mall, dinner, and then to the theater around the corner for the movie. 

“Yeah, bud?” Eddie says, smiling down at his son. “I think we could manage that.”

“But I wanna be this one,” Chris insists, slowing as he cranes his neck to look up at Eddie, then Buck. 

“You like him better than the new one?” Buck asks, slowing to match Chris’ pace. 

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, “Dad says— dad says he’s your favourite. So I wanna be him.” 

Buck beams, catching Eddie’s eye with a raised eyebrow, before reaching over to ruffle Christopher’s curls. 

_ “You’re _ my favourite superman, buddy,” he says. Chris grins. 

It’s dark out by now, later than they’re usually out with Chris, but they’d made an exception for the movie. Eddie had parked a little farther from the theater than he might have liked, because the mall parking lot had been nearly full when they came in. He’d tried to find a closer spot, but Chris had gotten tired of his circling and insisted he could walk the distance just fine—so they’d left the truck where they could find a spot, and made their way the one block down to the theater. Now they keep a steady pace as they head back to the truck, strolling along beside Chris as he walks between them.

“Oh, shoot,” Eddie mutters suddenly, patting at his pockets and starting to look concerned. 

“What’s up?” Buck asks. Eddie frowns. 

“I think I left my phone in the theater,” Eddie groans, checking his jacket pockets a second time just to make sure. “Must’ve fallen out while we were watching, or something.”

“Do you want me to—” Buck starts. Eddie shakes his head before he can even finish the question. 

“No, I think I remember where we were sitting. I'll just run back and grab it," Eddie says, already turning to head back the way they came. "You guys go ahead to the truck, I'll meet you there?" 

“Sure,” Buck agrees. Eddie smiles and jogs off, leaving Buck with Chris and their bag of leftover popcorn.

“Alright, buddy,” Buck says, when Eddie turns the corner out of sight. “Let’s keep moving! Don’t want to still be standing here when your dad gets back, do we?”

He gets Chris moving again with a light pat on the shoulder. It’s not far to the truck from here—a quick cut through the alley a little ways ahead, and they’ll be in the parking lot where they left it.

The streetlights don't cast their glow very far past the entrance, and the alley has no lights of its own, but even in the dark Buck can make out two figures leaning against the alley wall near the other end. Buck isn't sure why that makes him hesitate, because really, it's only a few steps and then they're through to the next street over. They can pass those men by, and they’re most likely harmless. Maybe it’s because he has Chris—on his own, he wouldn’t think twice. It’s just an alleyway. But with Christopher…

If he goes with his gut, they’ll have to walk another block to get to a proper cross-street, and Chris is already yawning. The kid is tired, and it’s just an alleyway. It’s probably just two college kids. He’s being paranoid. So he ignores the feeling, and turns the corner into the dark gap between the buildings with Chris babbling along next to him. The kid doesn’t seem to have noticed his hesitation at all. 

They step past the glow of the streetlight. Chris shuffles a little closer to Buck’s side, but keeps talking. Buck keeps them moving as his eyes adjust to the dim light of the alley, and yeah, maybe he’s being a little protective—but it’s justified, because this is his friend’s kid. He’s allowed to be paranoid if it keeps Chris safe. 

The thing is, he’s so focused on getting Chris through the alley as fast as possible that he doesn’t notice the two men falling silent, or sizing them up as they approach. It’s not until Chris goes quiet that Buck realizes something is wrong. He frowns down at him, confused by the sudden change, and when he looks back up he has to do a double take—because one of the men steps out in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Nice night for a walk,” the man says, hands in his pockets. His voice is friendly, but there’s an edge to it that’s making Buck nervous, and he’s blocking their way forward. 

“For sure,” Buck says, politely. “Sorry man, we’re just trying to get through to our car, but you have a good night, yeah?” 

He flashes a smile and reaches behind to put his hand protectively on Christopher’s shoulder, before moving to try and step past the man in front of him. The man steps back with him, staying in his way. 

"Nah," he says, "I don't think we're done here." 

The second man pushes off the wall and steps in behind them, effectively cutting off the other end of the alleyway. There's nowhere to go, no way out of the alley without shoving past one or both of these men, and Buck's adrenaline picks up as he starts to realize this shortcut to the truck might have been a really, really bad idea. 

They're not large men, and at least one of them is trembling faintly like he's coming down from some sort of high. If he'd been on his own, Buck could probably take them on if he had to. But he's got Christopher to think of—he's not about to even entertain the thought of this kid getting hurt. 

"Look, guys—" Buck starts, holding a hand up placatingly. 

The quiet  _ snick  _ of a switchblade opening cuts Buck off as the first man steps a little closer. His eyes widen at the sight of metal, glinting in the faint light, and his adrenaline kicks up a notch higher. This shortcut to the truck was, without a doubt, a  _ really bad idea. _

"Bucky…" Chris whines quietly, pressed up tight behind Buck and clinging desperately to his leg. He squeezes gently with the hand still resting on Christopher's shoulder, hoping it feels reassuring. Buck isn't sure he knows what's happening, but he knows enough to be scared. Buck is scared too. 

_ "Bucky,"  _ the guy mocks, and Buck has to grit his teeth at the way it sounds coming out of his mouth. Wrong. Then the guy holds out a hand and says, "wallet." 

“Okay, okay,” Buck agrees quickly. He reaches slowly for his back pocket, keeping his eye on the knife the whole time. 

“This is taking too long, man,” the other one says. He’s looking a little jittery now, only half-focused, and he keeps glancing back down the alley like he’s afraid someone will come up behind him. 

“Hurry  _ up,”  _ the one with the knife hisses, nostrils flaring. His fingers twitch on the handle. They’re getting skittish. The longer they stay in this alley, the more likely they are to be caught, and they clearly know it. Buck stalls for barely a second, but a jerk of the knife in his direction has him pulling his wallet out and tossing it into the man’s waiting hand without another moment of hesitation.

“And your phone,” demands the second man. The one with his wallet doesn’t even bother rooting through it, just shoves it in his pocket and turns his attention back to the pair in front of him. 

“Oh, come on, you don’t have to—”

“Just give us the damn phone!” 

Chris clings tighter to Buck’s leg, shaking, and Buck doesn’t know what to do. Everything feels too slow and too much and Buck doesn’t know what to  _ do.  _

Somewhere down the street, a man starts to whistle. 

Buck doesn’t know if it’s Eddie, even if it sounds like it is. Would he be on his way back by now? He must be, right? As much as Buck wants him here, he also doesn’t want him anywhere near this mess. 

“Too slow,” the man with the knife says, before Buck can even reach into his pocket. The sound of another person must have spooked them. “Maybe I can give ya’ some incentive?”

He reaches a hand out towards Chris, and Buck’s world snaps back into focus. Chris cringes back from the hand and bursts into tears. 

“Don’t touch him!” Buck snarls. 

He couldn’t tell you in perfect detail what happened after that—things speed up, too fast and disorienting to make sense of. He knows that he steps between Chris and the guy. He knows he bats the hand away that was reaching for Chris. He knows that both men startle at the movement, and the one with the knife reacts almost instinctively with a punch to Buck’s gut. Or at least, it feels like a punch. He stumbles briefly, looks up to meet the man’s eyes, wide with disbelief. They stare at each other for a moment. 

Then the second man is muttering, “shit, shit, we gotta go!”

Buck thinks he hears his name being called, but things are starting to slip out of focus. He blinks, surprised when it feels a little sluggish. He’s fine, right? He can take a punch. 

Chris is crying, the full-on heaving sobs of a terrified nine-year-old. Buck wants to comfort him, reach out and tell him that they’re fine now, they’re safe, but he can’t seem to get his arms to move. He’s just standing there, staring, like his brain hasn’t caught up to the rest of his body yet. 

And then Eddie skids around the corner, his phone clutched in his hand, winded like he’s been running and clearly having heard at least the tail end of the altercation, if the expression on his face is anything to go by. His eyes lock on Chris first, and he drops to his knees to take him in his arms, muttering reassurances and shushing his cries as soon as he knows he’s unharmed. 

“What happened, Buck?” Eddie asks sharply, still looking at Christopher. Buck doesn’t answer. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. Pain pulses across Buck’s stomach, and he sways, then brings a slow hand up to clutch at it and try to ease the ache. 

“Buck?” Eddie prompts again, brow furrowing. He looks up this time, and when his eyes land on Buck, the colour drains from his face. “Oh god, Buck, you’re  _ bleeding—” _

“Huh?” Buck blinks again. Eddie’s words register in his head after a long moment, and he glances down at himself. He lifts a bloodied, shaking hand and stares, and stares. 

“...oh,” he mutters. Distantly, he hears Eddie talking, and the dial tone of a phone. He’s losing focus again, the world turning blurry at the edges.

“I gotta...I think I gotta...s-sit down,” Buck slurs. He doesn’t even know who he’s saying it to. He staggers, barely catching himself against the wall and sliding down to the pavement. He clutches at the wound again, moaning pitifully as the pain mounts.

Eddie returns, though Buck can’t get his thoughts in order enough to wonder where he’d gone. He drops to his knees and balls up his jacket against Buck’s stomach, lifting Buck’s half-limp hand out of the way to press down hard against the wound with his own. 

Buck chokes out a whine when the pain doubles with the pressure, a burning, white hot agony. Stars burst across his vision and he reaches out instinctively to push Eddie away, to get him to stop, because it hurts, it hurts, it  _ hurts— _

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Eddie is saying, when Buck manages to come back to himself, but he doesn’t let up. Buck pushes at him again, weakly, panting from the pain and the effort of moving. Eddie just catches his hand instead, tightening his fingers around Buck’s reassuringly. 

“Chris,” Buck mumbles. The world blurs again, and he blinks to clear it. “Christ’pher….where’s—”

“He’s okay,” Eddie answers, “scared, but okay. And you will be too, alright? Ambulance is on the way.”

Buck stares up at him, taking too long for the words to register. He blinks again, heavy and slow, and it’s almost too much effort to keep his gaze locked on Eddie’s. Chris is okay. Chris is okay. That’s all that matters. 

Eddie squeezes his hand a little tighter. His grip is grounding, and it’s probably the only thing keeping Buck tethered right now, when all he wants to do is let reality slip away. 

He’s so tired. 

“Eyes open, man,” Eddie snaps. “You’re not dying in front of my kid, you hear me?”

Buck just hums quietly, too exhausted to form words. Eddie presses harder against his wound, but he barely feels it anymore. The pain has faded, leaving behind a spreading numbness, cold to the tips of his fingers. 

The blaring wail of the ambulance splits the night, finally. It can’t take more than a few minutes to get to them after that, but it feels like hours. It feels like years. Time oozes away from him, and he can’t count the seconds but he can count Eddie’s whispered assurances, telling him over and over that he’s going to be fine. Buck holds on to that as the ambulance pulls up, as the paramedics take Eddie’s place, as he hears Chris start to cry again somewhere Buck can’t see and Eddie reaches his free hand out to comfort him.

The paramedics must recognize them, because Buck hears one of them say to Eddie, “We’ve got him, Diaz. Take care of your kid.” 

He’s fading in and out, barely conscious now, and the next thing he knows he’s being moved towards the waiting ambulance. Eddie’s hand drops from his and the absence makes him colder. 

"Eddie?" Buck asks dazedly. Somewhere above him, a voice answers, "Right behind us, kid. He'll meet you there." 

And then the doors are closing. The ambulance jolts into motion, and the piercing scream of the siren is the last thing Buck hears before the world slides sideways into darkness.

* * *

Buck wakes to the blank ceiling of a darkened hospital room and his first thought is:  _ Christopher.  _ His second thought is:  _ Eddie? _

“Right here,” a low voice says from next to him. Buck rolls his head to the side to see Eddie, smiling gently at him from one of the shitty hospital chairs by the bed. 

“Said that out loud?” Buck asks. It’s only half a question and his voice sounds rough, but Eddie understands. He always does. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles quietly. And before Buck can properly ask, he says, “Chris is here too. Asleep. One of the nurses brought us one of those roll-away bed things.”

“He’s okay?” 

“He’s just fine. Not a scratch on him,” Eddie assures him, “Just scared.” 

“I scared him,” Buck says. Eddie nods, offers half a smile.

“You scared me too,” he says, “But you kept him safe. Thank you.”

Instead of answering, Buck reaches out a shaky hand, and Eddie grabs it. It steadies him, just like it had earlier. 

“I’m okay too, right?” Buck asks. 

“You are,” Eddie nods. And then he adds, voice wavering, “You almost weren’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck says. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Eddie responds, and his smile returns. “Let’s just park closer to the theater next time, okay?”

Buck laughs, even though it hurts. His eyelids droop, and Eddie snorts softly. 

“Go back to sleep, man,” he says, “you need it.” 

“You’ll stay?” Buck asks, even as his eyes fall shut. 

“We’re not going anywhere without you,” Eddie says. Buck smiles sleepily. 

“Good,” he says. As he drifts off again, he tightens his fingers slightly around Eddie’s, and Eddie squeezes back. 

**Author's Note:**

> drop a kudos/comment or come yell at me on [tumblr](https://ghostlyluke.tumblr.com/)


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